One Hundred and Sixty-Seven.

I am a goddamn fucking unicorn and I don’t care what none of you say.
you see this?
you see this giant piece of bone sticking out of my forehead?
this is a horn.
it is magical and very dangerous.
I am magical and dangerous and I don’t appreciate you laughing in my face.
these plastic bags are filled with more than rags
these filthy clothes are their own kind of armour, and you know
you can find gold in unexpected places
if you just look hard enough.
I have made my house in this underpass, shaped this shrubbery into my shelter.
I’ve made this house a home.

*

sarah

Those were the glory days
Before we all realised that the point of kiss chasey
Was to never run too fast